


Lips Of An Angel (Songfic)

by AllusionToReality



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, M/M, Physical Abuse, Songfic, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:19:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3037568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllusionToReality/pseuds/AllusionToReality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One phone call at 2 in the morning and everything changed</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips Of An Angel (Songfic)

Phil was awoken suddenly by the muffled sound of a telephone ringing.

“ _It's 2 in the morning, who would be calling now?”_ Phil thought to himself.

He sat up slowly, trying not to disturb the person sleeping beside him. Apparently, his attempts failed.

“Phil, where are you going?” The other body said as they shifted slightly, their voice thick with sleep.

“Shh, just go back to sleep, honey. I'll be right back.” Phil said softly, pushing his girlfriend's bangs back to place a kiss on her forehead.

After she fell back asleep, Phil got up to answer the phone, which had rung about four times since he woke up.

He cautiously made his way into the lounge, trying not to hit any boxes that could fall over and cause noise. Phil and his girlfriend, Amelia, had moved into their flat about 2 months ago, but boxes still lined the rooms. They sat unopened due to the simple fact that there was no reason for them to be open. Everything the couple needed was already out and in it's place, or at least in the relative area.

Phil entered the lounge and picked his phone up off of their makeshift coffee table, which was a few boxes stacked on top of one another. Amelia always talked about ordering a real coffee table for them, but it all came down to a simple reason again. She only wanted to order furniture when the boxes became tacky or unusable, whichever came first. Phil would always silently hope it would be the news of possible guests that would push Amelia to purchasing real, wooden furniture.

Sitting down on the couch Phil brought with him from his old flat, he squinted against the florescent lighting from his phone, his eyes not used to the sudden light quiet yet. After taking a few seconds to let his eyes adjust to the brightness, Phil could finally make out the Caller ID on his screen.

_Incoming Call from: Dan_

Phil was confused at first, but after rubbing his eyes to try and clear his vision, the same name remained on the screen. The “Missed Calls” number was only increasing, somewhere around 6 or 7 now. His ringtone wasn't loud, but in the empty flat it's pitch echoed around the room, causing the sound to be more amplified. Or, maybe it was Phil's fear of keeping Amelia awake. Whichever it was, the phone was still ringing, and the noise was only going to continue if Phil didn't press a button.

After the 8 th ring, Phil found himself pressing “Accept”. He cautiously raised the phone to his ear, nervousness settling into his stomach. He and Dan rarely spoke anymore, and they definitely didn't call each other at 2 in the morning. Dan was either drunk or something was wrong, and Phil didn't know which situation he would rather handle at the moment. Phil could hear breathing on the other end, but neither party had spoken a word yet. It was Phil who broke the silence.

“Dan, why are you calling me? It's really late.”

He waited one moment, two, three, until Dan finally spoke up on the other end.

“I know, and I'm sorry, but I just... uh...”

Dan's voice trailed off and Phil sighed, a mixture of part agitation and part exhaustion settling next to the nervousness.

“Dan, it's... well, kinda hard to talk right now.”

Phil kept glancing towards the door of the lounge, hoping Amelia was asleep and out of earshot. She was a light sleeper on some nights, and if she was woken up by noise it was impossible to get her back to sleep. Then for the rest of the day she would complain about how tired she was, and Phil would have to listen. He would try to make it up to her, making her dinner, drawing a bath, giving her a back massage, but nothing would work. She would stay irritable until the next day, but the day after she would wake up later, and that led to a whole new problem.

“I know, I know, I just...” Phil heard a sniffle, “I needed someone to talk to.”

Phil drew up his forehead in confusion and worry. It was clear now that something had upset Dan, and from the shaky breathing, Phil could tell Dan had been crying. And if Dan was calling Phil for someone to talk to, that meant Jack was probably the one who upset Dan in the first place.

“Dan, why are you crying? What happened? Is everything okay?”

Phil lowered his voice to a whisper on the last question, noticing that with his worry, his voice raised. He concentrated on Dan's breath on the other side, how it was still shallow and quivering. Phil mentally punched himself, he shouldn't be able to remember these things about Dan. What he sounds like when he's upset, how his soft, dark brown eyes glistened with tears, how fragile he felt when Phil held him....

“ _Stop it. Phil. That was 11 months ago.”_

Phil couldn't deny that it had taken him a while to get over Dan. It was surprisingly difficult, seeing as he was the one who called them off. He could remember every detail of the day it happened, wether he wanted to or not (but subconsciously he wanted to). Phil couldn't remember the exact reason he wanted to break up with Dan, and the words he said had been pushed into a repressed memory at this point. It probably wouldn't have mattered what reason he gave to Dan, the same reaction still would have ensued.

Dan would still have stared at him, wide-eyed and unbelieving, then at the floor as if it had some sort of answer for him. Dan would have still looked around for something to comfort him, seeing his previous choice had just broken his heart. He would have still walked back to his room, eyes fixated on the floor, shoulders slightly hunched forward. Most importantly, Dan still would have glared at him with soft-turned-sharp, dark, cold eyes as he screamed at Phil to “get out, get out of my house!”

Phil knew he deserved it though. After being together for 5 years, being in love for 3, Phil had shattered Dan's world. Phil tried to erase everything Dan was to him, but permanent marks would never go away. Dan's fingerprints were burned into Phil's skin, the way Dan smelled on all of his clothes. Phil always tried to get rid of Dan, especially after meeting Amelia, but Dan was a ghost around Phil, haunting his dreams and surrounding his everyday life.

“Phi... Phil, I.... I really need someone to talk to right now.” Dan managed to get out in between soft sobs.

“Why don't you talk to Jack then.” Phil could taste the bitterness in his words, noticing his question was probably phrased like a sentence. It wasn't Dan's fault for latching onto that asshole, and Phil knew it was wrong of him to blame Dan for everything that had happened.

Silence on the other side. Phil could feel the dread hanging over him, and he could only hope that Dan would continue talking.

“He... uh... he's in the next room.” There was another pause, and Phil swallowed. He had heard Dan inhale, like he was about to say something, but the silence continued.

“You know,” Dan started, and Phil held onto every word he said, anticipating the next words to come across the phone. Talking to Dan, talking to anyone, at 2 in the morning could be dangerous, especially if the conversation is with someone you love (or in this case, past tense loved).

“Sometimes I wish he was you.” Dan said with a slight laugh. His laugh came out more like a forced breath through the nose, but his akaward amusement was still present.

Phil's breathing hitched and he froze. So, Dan still had feelings for him?

“I guess we never really moved on.” Phil blurted out, before thinking about what to say. He tried to stop himself, but the words were out of his mouth before common sense kicked in.

Phil was slipping back into his casual conversation way of talking, it was the way he used to talk to Dan all of the time. It felt foreign and unusual, seeing as he hadn't spoken to anyone like that since... well since he and Dan broke up. Amelia didn't have the same sense of humor that Dan did, and none of Phil's friends wanted to talk about video games and Japan, they all cared about their jobs and politics.

Phil zoned back into the conversation, but it seemed that Dan had been taken back too. Dan was the first to speak again, which gave Phil a bit of relief.

“I really missed talking to you, Phil.” Dan said, the usual glimmer in his voice beginning to retake it's place, after being driven out by tears.

Phil nodded, even though he knew Dan wouldn't see it.

“It's really good to hear your voice.” Phil missed the way Dan said his name, the name that had no meaning until it rolled off of the other's tongue. Phil used to hate his name, and the hatred lasted through primary school until the day he heard Dan's voice. Dan always gave his name life, it didn't just sit in a conversation. The way Dan said his name was sweet, and calm, and thick, and angelic, and it all came down to the word beautiful. The way Dan talked and said Phil's name just made Phil think “beautiful” and nothing could change that. Not a fight, a break up, not even a 10 month wall of silence between the two.

Phil could feel himself slipping, and he knew that if he let Dan have him back, he wouldn't be able to sleep in the same bed as Amelia. He wouldn't be able to look his, his **girlfriend** for hell's sake, in the eye. Because if Phil slipped and fell, only Dan could help him back up. But Dan “had” Jack, and Phil had Amelia, and it was going to have to stay that way. Phil had his chance with Dan and he blew it, and now this was the consequence.

Phil lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut, begging his eyes to hold themselves together.

“Dan, I gotta go.... good night.” Phil said quickly, pressing the call end button and sliding his phone across the sofa. He brought his knees to his chest, and tried to bury his face in between the small space.

Phil didn't want to say goodbye. Phil never wanted to say goodbye. But talking to Dan was only going to have a bad outcome. Phil was going to confuse himself, and he was going to end up making the wrong decision. After all, Phil was dating Amelia now, not Dan. But, oh god, Dan made it so difficult. Phil wanted nothing more than to drive to Dan's, his, **their** apartment so they could hold each other one more time. Dan was making it so hard to be faithful. Phil knew Amelia deserved all the love in the world, but he also knew she didn't deserve someone's second hand.

Phil returned to the bedroom where Amelia was fast asleep. She was slightly snoring, which made Phil smile. She sure was adorable, but she reminded Phil to much of the way Dan used to sleep. Phil lay back down and pulled the duvet over himself, making sure to leave enough for Amelia. They slept on opposite sides of the bed, on their sides, facing away from each other. Phil fell asleep slowly, his mind still on the conversation and Dan. Phil began running through an old list of why Dan was just perfect, and he got to his favorite one before drifting off to sleep.

“ _Dan, he has the lips of an angel”_

~ 1 Month Later~

The familiar ring of his cellphone woke Phil up almost too easily. He had been waiting for the call since the last time, which strung a guilty knot in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn't have been expecting a call, and Phil could only wish at this point that the call was just a wrong number. But Phil knew, and possibly Amelia knew by now, but all he could concentrate on was getting to the lounge.

Phil picked up the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID, because he knew who was calling. He barely paused to take a breath before pressing the “accept”, as he practically ran from the bedroom and was now regretting being out of shape. Using his hand to find the sofa, Phil lowered himself onto the chair to compose himself, unconsciously trying not to seem winded when he answered the phone.

“Dan” Phil breathed out, despite having caught his breath by now.

The other end of the line was silent for a moment, before a slight sniffling noise could be heard. Phil felt his body tense, and he knew immediately that Dan was crying again. Before he could even begin speaking, Phil had a clear assumption as to the reason.

“Hey, uh, Phil. I just... I needed to call again.” Dan's voice was quiet and cracked, as if he was on the edge of breaking into a million scattered pieces.

It seemed he was like this too often nowadays, small and fragile. Phil remembered when Dan used to be so strong and daring, not caring about what others thought about him or his opinions. Of course, he was only like this after Phil coaxed him out of his shell, but after they... drifted apart, Dan seemed to scurry right back in. And when Jack came along, everything that was left of Dan was ripped apart and used for greedy pleasure.

Phil took a deep breathe and tried to lighten the mood, “You know, its kinda funny that you called tonight.”

Rather quickly, Dan replied, “How so?” A slight nervousness edged on his voice, and Phil was quick to reassure him.

“Well, I sorta.. had a dream about you... about us.” It was hard for Phil to say, knowing quite well the dreams probably weren't coincidental.

They began to occur about a week after the first night Dan had called him, and Phil never told Amelia. Their relationship was beginning to take a rocky step, and Phil was afraid of telling Amelia anything that had to do with Dan now. Well, somewhat afraid. One part of Phil was desperately clinging to their relationship, shouting at Phil to get ahold of himself to save their relationship. But somewhere in the back of his mind, another part of Phil was telling him to toss the relationship out the window. It was obvious now that he would rather be with Dan, it was always that way. Amelia seemed to be a side step, a distraction from what Phil really wanted, and that was Dan. He wanted his relationship with Dan back, and to get that he had to break off with Amelia. But all of the opposition took place in his head, and nobody trusts a decision made at 3am anyways.

Dan slightly giggled, and Phil let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

“You know, I did too. We were sitting in our...” Dan cut himself short. “My, flat. And we were watching an episode of Breaking Bad that you had downloaded, and in the middle of it, you jumped up and left the room. I followed you to the kitchen, and you had set up a meth lab right there, that very minute. I woke up laughing and Jack,”

A pause. Phil bit his lip, silently urging Dan to continue. Everything was silent for another minute before Dan started again.

“Jack wanted to know what was going on. I told him I had a dream and... well he wouldn't accept that. Of course I didn't tell him what the dream was, but I sorta had to improvise until he went back to sleep.” Dan sighed, and Phil knew what he had to do.

“Dan... does he,” Phil paused to correct himself, “Jack. Does he know that you've been talking to me?”

There was a sarcastic scoff from the other end. “Of course not Phil, do you take me for some bloody idiot? If Jack knew... God I can't even begin to imagine what would happen.”

“Dan... what do you mean?” Phil asked hesitantly, his suspicions confirmed, but he wanted to hear Dan say the words out loud.

“Don't play stupid, you know exactly what I mean. You know why I quit YouTube? Because I can't very well be going on camera with a black eye without getting questioned. Hell, maybe for 2 weeks I could, but for 10 months? Not even a beauty expert could cover this up. I might as well just stop going outside while Im at it, I can't wear short sleeves anymore. And you know the worst part about it?”

Dan stopped, but Phil knew fully well that the question was rhetorical.  
“Nobody believes me. You try telling someone your boyfriend hit you, and the only reply you get is 'well, your a guy, just hit him back'. But I... I can’t.”

Dan took a deep breath to steady himself, and he had completely forgotten he was on the phone with Phil.

“He never means it. It's always my fault. I mess up, and he's already stressed enough from his job, and I mean, he is trying so hard to support us both with one job... and I... all I do is sit around on the internet all day. I lose track of time and he comes home from work expecting dinner... the least I could do is make him dinner! I try to make it up to him, but I know its never enough. He loses his temper, and he hits me. But it's never his fault, it can't be. He's so sweet and wonderful, and he's fine in the morning before work, and.... he never means it.”

Phil's breath caught in his throat. He sat for a minute, waiting to see if Dan continued, if there was anything else that could be said. Everything was out on the table, and it wasn't until Phil let out a choked gasp that Dan remembered he was talking to another person.

“Oh, shit Phil, I didn't...Listen, you can't tell anyone. I know it sounds bad, but I promise you everything is fine. Jack and I have just had some rough patches, I mean, I bet you and Amelia do too?” Dan's words were rushed and clumsy, and he ended his desperate attempt at redemption with more of a question.

Silence on the end of the line. Phil couldn't find the right words (were there any right words?) and Dan was fidgeting with the case on his phone. There was rustling coming from the bedroom, and Dan nervously shifted, knowing if Jack saw him... It wasn't going to be an easy night. More rustling and then a shuffling noise. Dan cowered to the couch and slouched down in the seat. He placed a hand over the receiver and whispered into the cell quietly.

“Phil, I dont know if you're still listening. But trust me, everything is fine. You don't have to worry about me, I have Jack, you have Amelia, it's different now. Don't try to save me, it's too late for that. I honestly... don't really know if you still have the same feelings, but even if you do, you shouldn't. And all along I shouldn't still have them either but I do... and I honestly wish Jack was you sometimes.”

Dan sighed, and he silently cursed himself for throwing all of his past at Phil, but based on the shuffling in the kitchen, this was probably the last time he would be able to talk to him. It was a now-or-never situation, and Dan would happily get everything off of his chest now, rather than regret keeping his mouth shut until he was over his past relationship with Phil.

“So this is goodbye Phil. This will probably be the last time I call unless, ya know, Jack and I decide to get married or something!” Dan laughed, but there was no humor in his voice. The idea sickened him, but **something** had to lighten the mood after what Dan had said earlier.

“Listen, I hope you and Amelia work out. Please don't let what we had rip you two apart...” Dan hesitated at his next words, and finally he breathed out, “I'm not your Bear anymore, Phil. Goodnight.”

Phil could feel the tears rushing down his cheeks, but he didn't bother wiping them away. Every word Dan had said was circling around in his head, and Phil's head moved from his lap to the sides of his face, trying to piece together everything that had just been confessed. Phil felt like a glass barrier had been broken, and the tiny shards of glass were piercing their way through him, making cuts and causing him to bleed from the inside out. His head hurt, and his stomach ached, and the blood rushing in his ears was too loud to concentrate. Tears continued to make their way from behind eyelids to the dark 'excuse for a couch” until they were intercepted by hands, causing their path to become droplets off pale skin.

Muffled rustling noises caused Phil to look up, and lean towards the phone that had been set on the table across from him. The call was still connected, despite Dan having said goodnight a moment ago. Muffled rustling noises turned to clear, angry, footsteps, and a voice to match followed.

“Dan, what are you doing? If you're talking to that bastard again, I'm going to...” The sound of plastic hitting carpet came a second later.

Phil's hand hovered above the screen, but dared not to end the call. An unclear 'conversation' (although clearly one-sided) was taking place, and Phil could only pick out certain words. The angry voice let out a few swear words, and then the sickening sound of cruelty meeting innocence overwhelmed the room. Phil didn't realize he had been holding back a sob until the voice came back.

“Are you sorry? This is all your fault, you know! Maybe we wouldn't be here if you had been loyal, you little whore...” There was more muffled contact and a quiet whimper.

“After all I've done for you, and you go back to him? Did you think he would love you again?”

There was a slight shuffling noise, and when the voice resumed, every word was painted in mock pity and fake softness.

“Danny, I'm doing this for your own good. I love you, and I need to know that you love me too. It makes me angry when you defy that, and you need to learn not to do that anymore, okay? Ok, so why don't we go back to bed, and you can prove me wrong, hm?”

Phil's anger flared up inside, and he felt defensive over Dan.

_That son of a bitch better not lay one finger on that innocent man._

Dan's voice was inaudible, but Phil could at least tell his answer wasn't a definite “Yes”.

“Fine, Im going out to find someone else then. When I get back, you'd have better changed your mind, you filthy whore. I hope you know, someone else out there is going to be able to make me happy tonight. You failed me, Dan.” The voice jeered, resonating more than the rest of the argument had.

One more blow, sounding like a kick to the stomach, and a loud SLAM before the other line went silent. Phil finally pushed “End Call”, knowing he should have pushed the button earlier. Sitting back against the sofa, Phil stared at the wall ahead of him for some time. Everything that had happened that evening was running through his head, becoming a train that was going to fast to stop.

Someone cleared their throat behind him. Phil sat up and turned to look behind him, Amelia standing in the entrance. Her jaw was set tight, and despite the lack of lighting, Phil could see the anger behind her eyes. She took some steps towards the couch, and nodded towards the phone.

“You left the damn thing on speaker.” She said, stopping behind the table where the phone lay. Phil averted his eyes from the face to the screen, the luminescent lock screen displaying “ **3:30am** ”, bright and clear. Not lifting his eyes from the screen, Phil spoke up softly.

“How much did you hear?”

“You can't cry as softly as you think you can. I heard noise, and your crying came afterwards, so I got up to see what the problem was...” Amelia paused. “I heard everything, Phil.”

Phil nodded, then slowly rose from his seat on the couch.

“Then you'll know exactly why Im going to do what Im going to do.”

Phil bent down and picked his phone up, then hurriedly shuffled around the couch to start towards the doorway. Amelia shifted, confused at first. When she saw Phil walking towards the door, everything clicked together, and she shot to put herself in his way.

Phil calmly looked down towards the woman and kept his voice steady.

“Amelia, please move, I have to do this.” Phil was able to shift her over enough to open the closet door and retrieve a coat, but when he turned to put it on, she snatched the clothing from his hand.

“Phil, you are not going over there. It's not your problem, Dan said so himself. Let the poor wimp deal with it alone.” Amelia pressed herself against the man, her hand sliding up his chest.

But it didn't faze Phil. He caught Amelia off guard and swiftly took the coat from her hands, slipping it on quickly. He had his hand on the door handle when Amelia gave one last attempt.

“Phil, if you walk through that door... if you leave this apartment, it'll be the last you see of it.”

Phil turned slightly, just enough to glance over his shoulder at the woman standing in the middle of their living room, next to the dull walls, makeshift couch, and the only actual furniture in the room, the coffee table. Phil felt a slight smile tug at his lips and he craned his neck a bit more to look Amelia straight in the eye.

“Have all of my stuff boxed and sent over.”

And with that, Phil stepped out into the chilly London air, and closed the door behind him. Phil took his phone out of his pocket, and dialed a number into it. The other end picked up.

“Phil? Why are you calling me this late?”

Phil grinned to himself.

“Dan, I'm on my way over.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The song used was Lips Of An Angel by Hinder.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


End file.
